


You're Welcome

by Auntie_Diluvian



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: April Fools' Day, Other, You've all misunderstood Jerry and you should be ashamed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6427486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auntie_Diluvian/pseuds/Auntie_Diluvian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guy who just moved in across the hall is extremely rude. The obvious solution is to mess with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Welcome

“Hey, you need some help with that? Looks heavy,” you said to the giant 90s CRT television set trying to squeeze past you on the stairs. The bulky equipment paused and seemed to consider your offer before being placed unceremoniously in your arms.

“Oh, um-” you started but its owner, a lumpy creature with noodly arms you were surprised could support that much weight to begin with, was already wordlessly making his way back down the stairs for another load.

You finished the climb. “No, that's cool, no need to thank me, or anything,” you grumbled as you reached the top step. The only other door in your breezeway was held open by a rock, so you and the TV squeezed in. The apartment was a mirror of your own. There were only a few boxes, but the couch was set against one wall, so you set the TV down across from it.

You dusted your hands on your pant legs as you stood. You heard footsteps on the stairs outside and decided to wait, first impressions aside. Moving into a new place is stressful for everyone, maybe he just needed a minute to collect himself before a proper introduction. He lugged his box in and dropped it on the carpet with little enough care that the windows rattled.

He eyed you up, his heavy lids making him look wary, and wordlessly left for another load. Well, you were just going to have to be relentlessly, annoyingly polite. There was fun in that. You could be his very own Ned Flanders. You rushed out of your new neighbor's apartment to catch up with him, tagging along close behind him all the way down to the parking lot. 

“Hi diddly ho, neighborino!” you called to his back. You were rewarded with a glare; apparently some cultural references do carry. But then something in his expression shifted, like he was calculating his next move.

“I'm Jerry.” he stuck out one of his noodly arms for you to shake. His palm was cold and clammy and you had to fight back a grimace.

“Since we're going to be neighbors, why don't I come over in a little while and we can get to know each other better.”

Something about his tone made your insides squirm. But your shift was only for four hours, and you now had a facade to keep up with.

You smiled, baring your teeth at him.

“Sounds great, see you around 5?”

“How about 4:30?” he countered, checking his fingernails. Rude. 

“Perfect. See you later, alligator!”

_What the hell just happened_ , you wondered once in the safety of your car. 

\--------

At 3:59, you were making yourself a snack when there was a knock on your door. Wow. Wow. Really?

You barely had the door open before he came barging in. Before you had it shut, he was sitting on your couch, eating a bag of Bugles off his fingers, three at a time.

“How was the move?” you asked, dumbfounded for anything else to say. 

“Good, hey, what's your Wi-Fi password?”

_You asked for this_ , your conscience hissed at you.

_Nobody asks for this_, you hissed back. 

“Let me get it for you,” you said, keeping your voice as even and pleasant as a Stepford Wife. 

You disappeared into your bedroom, found a post-it on your desk and wrote down a string of random letters and numbers.

You looked right into those bored eyes of his as you handed it to him.

“Actually I can't use this, I need to get back to unpacking.”

He put the sticky note in his pocket anyway.

“See you around, neighbor!” you called as he slammed your door behind himself. 

\--------

You hadn't seen him since the day he moved in, but now he was here, at your work? Shit. 

“Howdy, neighbor! Are ya lost?”

He fixed his gaze on the ficus tree behind the desk.

“No. I'm here to see Irma,” he mumbled.

“Oh.” It was the second sincere thing you'd said to him. “I'll get someone to escort you to her, if you'll just sign in here, please?”

You tilted the touch screen down so he could reach. He filled out the form and took a seat, one of his legs jiggling on the floor as he tried to avoid your curiosity, which, frankly, was killing you. 

A moment later, an attendant came and took him away from the reception area and your prying eyes. This did not sit well with you. 

One of the volunteers came in and you flagged her down. “Hey, I'm gonna go ahead and take my break now, do you mind?”

She smiled and gladly took your place. You weren't going to go spy on him. You’re just a regular old nursing home receptionist on break, headed to the cafeteria (That’s where she said they were going, wasn't it?) for… a snack. 

And if the vending machine happened to be just around the corner from their table, so be it. 

Decisions, decisions… 

“...and your mama, how’s she doin’?”

He sighed.

“Irma, she's dead, you went to her funeral, remember?”

“Oh. Oh yes, oh I'm sorry, dear. I see I've bothered you, but you can't let a silly old lady like me bother you. Now, on to the good stuff. How's your love life?”

He barked out a laugh. “Same as ever, yours?”

“I was hopin’ you’d ask,” she said, cafeteria chair squeaking underneath her, “cuz I get way more action than you.”

“I don't need the details, just tell me if you managed to bag Mr. Bucknell before they transferred you here.”

“Hah! Don't you know it!”

“Good, I'm glad you got that out of your system.”

“You wish, tubbsy. Hey, how's your mama doin’, I haven't seen her around lately.”

It never gets easier to hear. He paused. 

“She’s good. Misses you.”

“Well of course she does, whose dumbass idea was it to, to uh… What was I sayin’?”

 

Chocolate milk, definitely. The obvious choice. The machine rumbled and did its job, so you figured it was time for you to do the same. You had heard enough. 

\-------

You were getting ready for bed, wearing your most tattered pajamas, so of course there was a knock on your door when you had toothpaste foam on your chin. 

“Jusp a mimut,” you shouted, but you kind of hoped that whoever had the gall to come knocking at midnight hadn't heard you and would go away if you took long enough.

They pounded on your door a little harder.

You spat, rinsed, wiped your face and marched to your door to greet your midnight caller with all the personal offense you felt you were entitled to. You peered through the peep hole.

Jerry. 

“It's _cold_ out here, let me in!” he whined. 

Oh, absolutely. Why wouldn't you. It would be your pleasure.

He barreled in and went straight for your pantry.

“No no, come right on in and make yourself at home, I insist.”

He ripped open a package of Pop Tarts and put them in your toaster. 

He stared intently, waiting for the tarts to pop, as the brand name would indicate. When they did, he nearly fell over. 

Something was wrong.

He had trouble stabilizing himself. He was laughing, leaning against the cabinets.

“You're very drunk, my dude,” you said. 

“Hahaha, I'm in. Your house. Eatin' your Pop Tarts. Oh, man, are these even blueberry?”

“Strawberry.”

“Daaaamn, I wanted blueblerry. Rhymes. With Jerry.”

“So does strawberry, cool, right? Uh, look. Why don't we get you to your door?”

He slid to a sitting position on your kitchen floor.

“You might be right but you're not. You aren't no better’n me. I saw you today, Snoopy.”

You stiffened. “I was getting a drink.”

“That's why,” he furrowed his considerable, wide brow, “I'm here. You mind your own business, I'll stay outta mine. Yours.”

He hissed, letting pastry crumbs fall out of his mouth.

“I burned my mouth.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I'm sorry I found out your horrible dark secret that you're nice to old ladies,” you said, crossing your arms. You sat down across from him, ready to negotiate a truce so he'd get out of your apartment and let you get to bed, but for once, his expression lacked the assumed arrogance and complacency he’d worn since you first met. 

“Why do you do that? Nobody is just naturally as rude and annoying as you pretend to be.”

He shrugged and laughed. It was a nice laugh. Not scornful or dismissive like you’d have expected. It was the same one you had heard that afternoon. 

“There you’re wrong, but. I don't know. It’s what I do when avoiding people doesn't work.” He gave you as pointed a look as he could manage. “Sometimes I do it just to prove myself right, that people really don't wanna be around me.”

“That’s really dumb, you should stop.”

“My god, what a concept,” he snapped. “No, I mean, look at me, I'm, you know….”

He yawned and his lumpy head hit the cabinet.

“Jerry?” you nudged him with your foot. “Jerry, c’mon, wake up.”

You got a spare pillow and blanket down from your closet.

\-----------

You must have woken him up getting ready for your morning jog, because by the time you pass through the living room, he’s sitting up on your couch, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

“Coffee?” you offered.

“Mmn. Mmhmm.” He leaned back and slouched, closing his eyes again.

While you waited for coffee, you started stretching, using the doorframe for balance.

You glanced over your shoulder and his eyes snapped shut. You quelled the smugness that rose in you. 

\--------

The mug of coffee you had left on the table was empty by the time you got back from your run. No sign of Jerry.

Just a post-it note. The one you had given him with the fake Wi-Fi password on it. Underneath, he'd written, in all caps, RUDE. 

You chuckled to yourself and took it to the trashcan to throw it away, but as it fluttered down, you noticed something on the other side. You fished it out. 

_Jerry XXX-XXXX  
Thanks._

You dug your phone out of your pocket.

“Hey, uh, I know you just left, but I bet you could use some proper breakfast for that hangover. I know a few places, wanna join me?”

You held your breath. 

“Sure, thanks.”

**Author's Note:**

> The real April Fool's day prank was the friends we made along the way... Jerry, I'm talking about Jerry. Like, even if you went into this expecting AFD shenanigans, regardless, you just read an entire one-shot about Jerry. Who would do such a thing?


End file.
